


Can't keep these jitters down (What a way to wake me up)

by PersonyPepper



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Established Relationship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Humor, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Being a Feral Bastard, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Lawyer Geralt, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Pegging, Power Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion, bastard boyfriends, chaotic bastards, in THE MOST CHAOTIC WAY, they're in love and their love language is bastard dumbassery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonyPepper/pseuds/PersonyPepper
Summary: “What’s this?” Jaskier stares at the flowers in his hand, looking like they’ve been fucking run over as Geralt looks on with a lazy grin tie loose around his neck and hair disheveld. “You have time to wrestle a bouquet but you can’t return my calls?”“Was too busy running over them with my car.”Jask scoffs, stepping away from the door to let the man in, putting the poor things in a chipped mug of water, though they’re beyond dead.Or, chaotic boyfriends love each other in chaotic ways.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 23
Kudos: 206





	Can't keep these jitters down (What a way to wake me up)

“What’s this?” Jaskier stares at the flowers in his hand, looking like they’ve been fucking run over as Geralt looks on with a lazy grin tie loose around his neck and hair disheveld. “You have time to wrestle a bouquet but you can’t return my calls?”

“Was too busy running over them with my car.” 

Jask scoffs, stepping away from the door to let the man in, putting the poor things in a chipped mug of water, though they’re beyond dead. 

“Really? Could’ve fooled me,” he can’t help but snicker, prodding at one of the demolished flowers. “Poor things, what, did Roach trample over them?”

Geralt looks mildly affronted as he comes to wrap his arm around Jaskier’s waist from behind— “Roach is a good girl.” 

“Mh, can’t say say the same thing about you.”

“You weren’t saying that when you were riding my dick and calling me a _very, very good boy_ yesterday.” 

Ugh, _bastard._ “Gods, you don’t need to call me out like that, sheesh.”

“I do. Also, reservation at seven. We’ve two hours— ”

“Gonna wreck me like you wrecked those flowers?” Geralt grins, entirely wolfish as he throws Jaskier over his shoulder, smacking his ass as the poor musician calls _bastard_ in a yelp.

He kicks the door behind him as he sets Jaskier on the bed, teeth nipping, sucking at Jaskier’s neck as he unbuttons his shirt. “ _Fuck_ , you know I am, Jask.”

~~

They’re late for their reservation but Geralt is filthy rich and it’s ok because— well, Jaskier doesn’t know, rich people stuff is beyond normal human comprehension, even when he was rich himself.

Going to these posh places is always a little weird, and he’s sure Geralt keeps bringing him here just so Jaskier’s forced to wear a suit, horny bastard with a clothing-kink.

The greeter (?) looks entirely appalled at Jaskier’s choice of clothing, Geralt looking oh-so lovesick as he follows his boyfriend in. Jaskier struts into the place like owns it, donned in black sunglasses and a sheer black button-up, casually unbuttoned at the base of his neck. And and oh a _beautiful_ baby-pink blazer with people fucking. Tits, cunts, balls, dicks of all colors sizes and shapes—

He fucking loves it. 

He’s smug as he slip into the booth, a winning smile on his face as he sips his water and winks at his hot boyfriend and his drab (but equally hot) black suit.

“How do I look, Geralt?” The man glares at him, fighting a smile.

“Like a pie with no—“

“Oh, don’t you _dare finish that sentence_ or I will peg you till you _beg.”_ He squints his eyes, looking at Geralt from across the table, palm flat against it, _“Twice.”_

“Ahem. _Gentlemen_.” The waiter clears his throat, cutting off their eye-fucking as he sets menus in front of them. He glances at Jaskier, giving him a once-over before very deliberately giving Geralt the wine menu.

 _Rude_. But he’ll let it pass, because it’s fair, he does look like he knows fuck all about wine.

“So, Mister Rivia…” Jaskier straightens, all business-like in his suit of sexy happenings.

“Hm?”

“How’re you enjoying being my trophy husband on this fine evening?”

“You’re the trophy husband, Jaskier, pretty sure you like it that way, too.” He smirks, golden eyes shining in the dim light.

Jaskier scoffs, leaning back, suit parting to reveal his shirt, and watches with mild amusement as Geralt takes in glimpses of his thick hair, nipples peaked in the chill air of the room— honest to gods, Melitele has paired him up with a partner as horny as he is and he can’t thank Her enough.

Dinner is a mess of teasing, Jaskier’s foot slipped out of his heels and rubbing Geralt’s clothed cock halfway through the ordeal.

Jaskier does end up pegging his boyfriend that night, and Geralt begs far more than just twice.

~~

3 am.

It’s go time.

He tucks his guitar into its case, throws his combo amp into the trunk of his lovely 1999 Ford Taurus and tucks the small velvet box into the pocket of his jeans.

It’s easy enough to creep around Geralt’s house, they spend most weeks at his because poor man can’t stand Jaskier’s apartment in the heart the city. He plugs in his amp, his guitar, and his mic, gleefully shaking with bastard energy.

Thank gods Geralt lives in Fuck All, the capital of Nowhere-land.

He grins as he strums his first note, staring at Geralt’s window. Okay, yes, under different circumstances, he would feel a bit creepy, okay? But he’s proposing and he’d promised Geralt to do it in the most obnoxious way all those years ago so— here he is.

_Dun-dun-dun-dun-da-da-dadada._

Fuck, he hasn’t even began playing it and it’s already stuck in his head, Geralt is going to _hate him._

Well. Time for his grand performance, his _Magnum opus,_ even, maybe.If Geralt says yes, he supposes. 

Fingers flit over the fretboard from where he’s stood on the lawn, lips parted and ready to belt out his greatest performance to date.

_Baby, can’t you see I’m calling?_

Oh, this is _glorious_ , sharp sounds of electric guitar echoing through the green fields that surround Geralt’s, his voice loud enough to wake the dead.

_A guy like you should wear a warning_

Jaskier’s grin turns manic as lights switch on in the house, oh, he can see his boyfriend’s face already, puffy with sleep, eyes squinted against the harsh light—

_It’s dangerous, I’m falling_

_—_ and there he is! Geralt of Rivia looks like he fucking _fuming_ and it spurs Jaskier into singing louder as his lover glares at him through parted curtains.

A window slams open.

“Jaskier! What the fu—” 

_Too high, can’t come down_

_Losing my head, spinnin’ ‘round and 'round_

_Do you feel me now?_

Geralt steps away from the window with a little stumble as he slams the window closed again (Jaskier sorta feels bad for it but oh well), entirely too cute as he likely blindly walks down the stairs, lights much too bright to be of help— oh Jaskier doesn’t have much time now, not much longer, nope.

_With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride!_

_  
You’re toxic, I’m slippin’ under_

_  
With a taste of a poison paradiiiiise_

_  
I’m addicted to you—_

_  
Don’t you know that you’re toxic?_

_  
And I love what you do—_

_  
Don’t you know that you’re toxic?_

Geralt stomps out his front door and goes to unplug it, his poor amp’s power chord is ripped away from its socket.

By the time Geralt turned around, Jaskier’s on his knee, guitar quickly shoved into its case, open by his side. 

Geralt… Geralt stares at him wide-eyed, lips parted before he bursts out laughing, bracing himself on his knees and fucking _shaking_ — it’s all Jaskier can do to keep himself together, the situation is truly ridiculous and his cheeks puff out in attempt to contain his laughter.

“You are,” Geralt huffs, out of breath as he comes to stand in front of him, staring down at his lover on his knee, ring held out in his hands, “An _utter_ bastard. Fuck— is that for me?”

Jaskier rolls his eyes, damn Melitele for giving him a himbo.

(He’s lying, Jaskier loves his himbo lawyer of a boyfriend.)

“Isn’t it obvious, Geralt?” The man blinks at him, as if he’s in shock, the medical kind.

“I’m in _love_ with you, you cockhead. Marry me, so I can murder you and live off your money already, and— ”

He’s being kissed before he can finish, his cheeks cupped ever so gently.

“Yes,” he whispers, voice rough with sleep and emotion, “I’ll marry you so you can mysteriously murder me and steal my fortune.”

Foreheads are pressed together as they kneel in dewy grass, Jaskier slipping a ring onto Geralt’s hand.

“Fuck, I love you,” he says with feeling, hands holding Geralt’s, lovely ring shining under the moonlight.

Geralt smiles a soft smile. “Fuck,” he whispers, “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt fill on tumblr! Felt ridiculous amounts of joy writing this lmao.
> 
> Comments let me know you're enjoying my work!! 
> 
> [Come say hi on tumblr (@persony-pepper)!](https://persony-pepper.tumblr.com)


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